


Perfect

by Agent17



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, But everyone lives happily ever after, First Dates, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 03:25:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17675552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agent17/pseuds/Agent17
Summary: Somehow, Baze and Chirrut manage to remember their first date very differently. Based on the prompt "the date where everything goes wrong."





	Perfect

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to fluffy times. This popped into my head and wouldn't go away, so enjoy the thoughts that run through my brain. No beta, so any mistakes and inconsistencies are my own.
> 
> Two songs ran through my head while writing this. "Perfect (Electro Swing Remix)" by 11 Acorn Lane and "Home" by She & Him

Baze couldn't help but turn away as Chirrut, still damp from the shower, came out of the bathroom. He slumped tiredly on the edge of the bed, arms resting dejectedly on his knees. He closed his eyes as he heard Chirrut sigh.

“Are you still sulking?”

Growling, Baze rubbed his face. “I'm not sulking.”

“Sounds like you are.” Chirrut reached for his face, left hand twisted tight in the towel to keep it in place. He poked at Baze, fighting back a grin as he tried to dodge his fingers. “See? Right there. There's a very big wrinkle. And this?” He pinched his cheek, pulling at it. “Such a big frown.”

“Chirrut, knock it off!” Baze shifted away from him, not in the mood to be teased.

Chirrut sat beside him, careful to leave enough space so that they were close, but not touching. He tilted his head back to stare blindly at the ceiling. “What's wrong?”

Baze huffed. “You have to ask?”

“Is this about dinner?” Chirrut was confused. Baze had had moods like this before, but he usually snapped out of them quickly, giving in to his teasing with little prodding. Chirrut had only ever felt him this despondent once before. When Baze refused to answer, he bit his lip. “Babe, you need to talk to me. I don't know what's wrong if you stay silent.”

“Nothing is wrong!” Baze snapped. He immediately regretted his words but didn't know how to take them back.

“Something clearly is. Is it me? Did I do something?”

Baze felt terrible that Chirrut could even think something so horrible. He curled up further into himself, hands covering his face. “It's not you. You could never do anything wrong.”

“Well obviously.” Chirrut hummed, hand slowly moving until he found Baze's arm. He gently traced his fingers across it. “So, then what's got you so upset? Clearly everything is not okay.”

Baze leaned just a bit closer, savoring the warmth coming off his lover. “Tonight...that was not how I meant for any of it to go.”

“What do you mean?”

Baze took in his confused face and reached for his hand, thumb playing across a faint scar on the back of his hand. He couldn't remember how Chirrut had gotten that one; something from their past that hadn't been important enough to leave an impression. “I just wanted tonight to be perfect. I wanted to take you someplace special, have a nice romantic dinner, maybe a walk after. Music, flowers. Not...”

“A drunken bar fight?” Chirrut asked, amused. He laughed when he heard Baze groan, hand tightening against his.

“That's the last time I let Jyn suggest a place.”

“Well, in her defense, that is the type of place she and Cassian enjoy. And it was kind of fun.”

Baze was shaking his head. “No. It was awful. I just wanted a make tonight perfect. Not like—”

“Not like our first date?” Chirrut asked, guessing correctly where this was going. When Baze didn't respond, Chirrut leaned against his shoulder, eyes closed. “Is that what you meant?”

“That date was horrible and you know it.”

Chirrut snuggled in closer, left hand coming to cover Baze's as well. “That's not how I remember it. You must be thinking of something else.”

“How can you not remember? Nothing went right!”

“Like tonight?”

“Tonight was just...god, how can a restaurant burn salmon?”

Chirrut smiled and kissed his shoulder. “There's nothing to be upset about. This was nothing.”

“It was not nothing,” Baze complained. “I wanted this to be perfect.”

“I thought all our dates have been perfect.”

Baze snorted. “Even that first one?”

“Especially the first one.”

“You're a fool.”

Chirrut stilled his hands, though he kept them tight around Baze's. “What do you remember about that first date?”

“That it was a disaster. That everything that could go wrong went wrong. I'm surprised you even wanted to go out with me again.”

Chirrut shrugged. “You and I remember it very differently then. I thought it was perfect.” He smiled as he felt Baze's temper flaring. “You're being too harsh on yourself. Do you remember everything, or just what you wish you could change?”

Baze frowned and thought back. It had been nearly thirty years. He remembered being young, struggling under a full load of classes and two part time jobs. He had barely been getting enough sleep and had almost backed out when his friend had set him up. “You can't spend another Valentine's day alone, Malbus. It's getting pathetic. Let me set something up. Trust me, you'll like this guy.”

Chirrut gently bumped against his shoulder. “Think about that night. Tell me it wasn't perfect? Tell me that you wouldn't change anything from that night? Can you remember? Please?”

* * *

Baze couldn't believe he had said yes. What had possessed him to agree to go out on a blind date, on Valentine's no less? Everything was going to be far too expensive, more than he could possibly begin to afford, not if he wanted to eat the rest of this month. Part of him wanted to back out, to just pretend that some kind of emergency had popped up and he was needed elsewhere. He sighed as he studied himself in the cracked mirror, tugging his tie straighter. Hopefully his date wouldn't mind that it was a little faded from the sun. It was only one he could afford from the thrift shop near campus. Same thing with the suit jacket. It was a bit too long, though the shoulder seams pulled when he moved; he'd have to remember to be careful how far he stretched his arms. He rolled his neck, trying to shake off his nerves as he grabbed his wallet and hurried from his room. He passed one of his housemates on the stairs, rolling his eyes as he wolf whistled as he headed for the door.

He hadn't even made it off the porch before the first disaster struck. He had just reached the first step when he was hit in the face by something wet and sticky. Gasping, he stumbled back, sputtering as he tried to wipe the muddy water from his face. He blinked as a tall blond girl jumped out from behind the shrub growing by the steps. “That's for cheating on me you asshole!”

Baze looked at her in disbelief as her eyes widened. He would have found it comical if he hadn't been in shock. The girl stammered out an apology, something about mistaking him for her ex but Baze wasn't listening. He turned and raced back into the house, taking the stairs two at a time until he reached the bathroom. His suit was ruined, at least for that night's purpose. He peeled it off, frantically thinking over what he had available to wear. He washed up and hurried to his room, groaning as he found his only other dress shirt buried in the laundry pile. He found a clean t-shirt and dark jeans. He wanted to cry but held it back, changing as quickly as he could. It would have to do. He still had time to catch his bus and get to the florist before he had to be at the restaurant. If he hurried, he'd be fine.

He rushed out of the house again, ignoring the arguing couple on the lawn as he tugged on his old jacket. Maybe his date wouldn't notice the hole in the armpit.

At the bus stop, the second disaster reared its ugly head. He sat waiting, growing more and more anxious as time passed and no bus arrived. Gritting his teeth, he checked the posted schedule again. He was relieved to see it turn onto the street, only twenty minutes late. He moved closer to the curb, ready to hurry forward, only to watch it race past without slowing down. “Come on!” he yelled, frantically searching for a different route. There—if he ran about six blocks, over and down, he could catch a different line that would drop him off close enough to where he needed to be that he could probably still salvage things. He set off, heart racing.

He managed to catch the next bus (hurray for small victories) and dropped into a seat, gasping for air. He fanned himself with his hand, hoping against hope that he wouldn't smell when he arrived. He caught sight of his hair in the window and tried in vain to get it to lie flat. He gave up as he reached his stop. It would have to do.

He knew the city well enough to find his way to the florist his friend had told him about. “Just tell them my name and you'll get a good deal,” he had said. Baze stepped inside, nervous as he waited for his turn at the counter. He watched the man in front of him pick up a bouquet; Baze nearly gasped when he heard the price. Fifty dollars for a handful of roses? He gulped as he moved forward. “Um, I—I need some flowers for my date.”

The girl at the counter smiled tiredly. “So does everyone else. What were you thinking of?”

“Roses? But, ah, do you have anything...cheaper?”

The girl glared at him. “Sir, it's getting late in the day on Valentine's. You're lucky we still have anything, especially if you didn't bother to pre-order. I might have a few left, but they're not going to look that great.” She went into the back and came out with three that were clearly dying. “This is all that's left.”

Baze licked his lip. “How much?”

The girl seemed to take pity on him and glanced toward the back before lowering her voice. “I'm supposed to ask for $50, but I'll go $45.”

“Bastion recommended this place. He said you might be able to give me a discount?”

She was shaking her head. “Not on roses. Sorry.” She nodded toward the buckets along the wall. “Pick anything you like and I'll take as much off as I can.”

Baze felt his shoulders dropping. He blinked rapidly before nodding numbly and turning to look. The girl followed him, waiting for him to make his choice. Overwhelmed, he pointed to a few that he recognized. He couldn't help but feel that this might be disaster number three. The girl kindly refrained from commenting on his choices, pulling a few of each from their buckets as well as he few he hadn't picked. “These will balance it out. Don't worry, we don't charge for these.”

He watched silently as she expertly arraigned them, wrapping them in a piece of clear plastic. “What color ribbon do you want?”

Baze looked at where she was pointing. “Uh, red I guess?” He watched her tie it on, before turning toward the cash box. “How much?”

“Ten will be fine.” She tucked the cash away with a little smile. “Hopefully whoever gets these will like them.”

Baze nodded. “Thank you for your help.” He carefully picked up the flowers, trying not to crush them as he hurried out. He checked his watch and realized he was running late. Cursing, he rushed down the street, dodging traffic as he neared the restaurant. He rushed up the the maitre d'. “Um, I had a reservation for seven? Malbus, party of two.”

The man frowned at him, eyeing his clothes before turning toward his book. “You're late.”

“I missed my bus,” Baze started to explain when he heard someone call his name.

“Excuse me, are you Baze? Baze Malbus?”

He turned toward the voice, mouth gaping as he stared at the young man before him. He was gorgeous, eyes bright above his high cheekbones. He was smiling; Baze's eyes were drawn to his lips. He wondered if they were as soft as they looked. He blushed when the man tilted his head, clearly catching on to his thoughts if his smirk as anything to go off of. “Ah, yes. I'm Baze.”

“Pleased to meet you. I'm Chirrut Imwe.”

“Hi,” Baze said, awkwardly. He held out the bouquet, dismayed to see some of the flower stems had broken in his rush. “Oh no...” He wanted to pull them back, to pretend that he had never offered them but Chirrut was reaching forward, eyes growing bigger.

“Are those for me? They're beautiful!”

Baze blushed brighter, jumping as the maitre d' cleared his throat. “Your table is ready,” he said coldly. Baze gestured for Chirrut to go first, studying the ceiling to keep from watching his ass as he moved. They settled into the table tucked into the back, Chirrut carefully setting his flowers on the table before tucking a cane that Baze hadn't noticed against the wall.

Baze opened the menu, trying not to cringe when he saw the prices. With luck, he would have enough for the food and a tip. Eating for the rest of February would have to be put on hold. He startled as Chirrut reached for his hand, blushing yet again as Chirrut giggled. “You seem very nervous.”

“Yeah, a little,” Baze admitted. He gestured toward the table. “I haven't been on a date for a while.”

Chirrut's smile was kind. “If it helps, I haven't either. At least, not a good one. But you're pretty cute, so yay me!” He laughed as Baze's face grew redder. “Oh my god, I didn't think you could get that red! It's adorable!”

“Good evening, gentlemen. Might I start you off with a bottle of wine?”

Baze looked up at the smiling waiter, suddenly lost. He hadn't thought about drinks; he had no idea what to order. He flipped through the menu until he found the list. His face paled. So much for a generous tip. “Is there anything you'd prefer?” he asked Chirrut, fingers crossed under the table that he wouldn't automatically choose the most expensive wine.

“The '72 Sauvignon blanc please.” Chirrut winked as the waiter walked away. “You'll like it, I'm sure.”

Baze nodded, noting its price in his head. He cleared his throat. “So, Bastion tells me you're studying to be a therapist.”

“Psychologist, really. But yeah, I plan to specialize in trauma therapy. Mostly because I'm nosy.” He giggled and waved his hand in front of his face. “I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Mostly it's because of my own family. They're pretty crazy and there's been a lot that's happened. I just feel like I should try and give back a bit, you know? And what are you majoring in again?”

“Oh, ah, physical therapy and personal training. With a minor in writing.”

“So we both want to help fix people! We're perfect for each other!” Chirrut's eyes lit up even more. “We should work together. I could send my patients to you to work out their anger issues. Learn to safely beat things up.”

Baze laughed as the wine was brought over. “You ready to order?”

“I'll have the lamb,” Chirrut said, handing the waiter his menu.

“I'll have the chicken.” Baze waited until he had walked away to restart their small talk. “Do you have a favorite book?”

“Not really. I used to read a lot, but not as much anymore as I probably should. How about you?”

“Too many to choose, really. If nobody warned you yet, I'm kind of a giant nerd.”

“Good thing I'm into that kind of thing.” Baze got the distinct impression that Chirrut just liked seeing him blush, if his giggle was anything to go off of. Chirrut set his glass down, eyes locked on his. “Bastion said you were working as a security guard.”

“Sort of. I help out at a bar, partly as a bouncer and partly to help move deliveries. I also work at a convenience store when I'm not in classes.”

“Sounds like you're pretty busy. That must be were all the muscles are coming from. That shirt shows them off nicely.”

“I wasn't planning to wear this originally,” Baze said, embarrassed for a different reason. “I was planning on dressing up, but something happened and, well, this was the best I had. You look lovely, by the way. That sweater looks amazing on you.”

“Thank you.” Chirrut seemed to preen under his gaze, pushing his chest out to show off his dark blue sweater. His left leg moved to rub against Baze's jeans, foot hooking behind his calf. “I also wore my tightest pair of pants, just for you. You like them?”

“Very much,” Baze mumbled, throat going dry. He gulped his wine, nearly choking himself as Chirrut pulled his leg closer.

“Why thank you. Play your cards right and you might get to see me without them. I'm curious just how far that blush extends.”

Baze was unable to speak as their food arrived. He let Chirrut take the lead in the conversation for a while, pleasantly surprised to find they had similar tastes in music and movies. Chirrut, it turned out, had his own apartment not far from his school (which cost more to attend than Baze's and was, coincidentally, his school's biggest rival). He turned out to have a knack for making Baze laugh and set about doing it as often as possible. When the time came to order dessert, Baze had forgotten that his day had started out rocky. They each ordered something and took turns sharing, Chirrut making Baze flush for a different reason as he licked the whipped cream from his spoon seductively. By the time the check came, Baze was caught between wanted to leave as soon as possible and lingering forever. He picked up the book and flipped back the cover.

And here lay disaster number four. He must have stopped breathing, for suddenly Chirrut was reaching for his hand, face concerned. “Are you okay?”

“Uh, yeah, I just...” Baze looked at the total again. How had he gotten it so wrong? He was short nearly sixty dollars. “I, ah....” He closed his eyes, horrified as he had to admit, “I don't have enough for the bill.”

Chirrut tilted his head, puzzled. “Is that all? That's no big deal.”

“It is. This wasn't supposed to happen. I had everything planned out, I checked the prices. I don't know what happened. This is way more than I thought.”

“Oh. Didn't you know that this place has a prix fixe menu for Valentine's? It was on the menu.” Chirrut's eyes widened. “They must have given you the wrong one!” Chirrut smiled softly as Baze's face dropped. “Why don't I pay for it. It's only fair, seeing as you bought me flowers.”

Baze was shaking his head, but Chirrut wasn't taking no for an answer. He plucked the book out of his hand and pulled a credit card from his wallet, handing it to a passing waiter without even looking. Baze clenched his fists. “You shouldn't have to do that, I could have figured something out.”

“Baze, it's fine. I'll just pay my father back later if he even notices the charge. And if it does bother you,” he said, holding up his hand to stop his protests, “you can just take me out on another date. That seems like a good deal to me.”

Baze felt a little bit of his hope returning. “You'd want to go out again?”

“Sure. I like you. You're a great person.” Chirrut winked as the receipt was placed before him. He slid it toward Baze. “Can you tell me where to sign? I can't see print that small in this kind of light.”

“Forgot your glasses or something? You'd probably look cute with a pair of wire rimmed ones.”

Chirrut giggled as he carelessly signed where Baze pointed. “It's technically too late for that, but I might be able to find some if you'd like.” Chirrut laughed at Baze's puzzled expression. “I take it that no one told you I'm losing my sight?”

Baze was mortified. “Chirrut, I'm so sorry! I never would have joked like that if I had known—”

Chirrut grabbed his hands and squeezed them. “It's fine. I've still got a few years. There's a new surgery my mom wants me to try, even though it's probably not going to do anything. That's why I started practicing with this.” He indicated the cane. “It's also a great way to guilt trip my parents into letting me do whatever I want, not that I try and take advantage of that. I'm saving up for something really rebellious. Mostly right now I have trouble in low light. However, if you feel bad, you could always make it up to me by buying me some ice cream right now.”

“You just had a chocolate mousse and a cheesecake.”

“I have a sweet tooth. Or,” he wiggled his eyebrows at him, “we could always go back to my place for a little after dinner exercise.”

Baze climbed swiftly to his feet. “That sound like a great idea.” He failed to see the busboy coming towards him with a tray piled high with plates. He was too busy staring at Chirrut, whose expression went from excited to horrified as the tray caught Baze in the back and knocked him off balance. He pitched forward, unable to catch himself as his foot landed on one of the dropped plates and slipped out from underneath him. His head hit the table with a thud that echoed through the room. The last thing he heard was Chirrut yelling “oh shit!” as he landed on the floor.

He didn't remember much after, just snippets of Chirrut crouched next to him with a napkin pressed to his head as the paramedics arrived. There was the sense of movement as he was loaded into a van and bright lights as people started checking on him. He was dimly aware of being in the emergency room, of a nurse checking on him. He tried to blink away the headache, managing to clear his vision enough to sign the paperwork accepting responsibility for payment for the stitches he was about to receive.

It felt like hours later when the nurse returned. “Well Mr. Malbus, looks like you got pretty banged up tonight. Not exactly how you planned to spend your Valentine's day, am I right?” She started laughing as she handed him a stack of papers. “So you have a mild concussion as well as some stitches and a broken nose. We've patched you up, so try not to break anything else. The scans found nothing else wrong, and since your boyfriend out there has said he'd take care of you tonight, we went over with him what to watch for. You're going to be pretty sore for a while, so the doctor prescribed some pain pills, which we went ahead and filled for you.” She handed him a bottle. “I'd suggest going and seeing either your own doctor in a couple of days or else your schools health provider. Think you can stand up?”

Baze nodded slowly, eyes squeezed shut against the pounding the movement caused. He suddenly realized that she had referred to Chirrut as his boyfriend and almost corrected her before realizing that it wouldn't matter. She wasn't listening anyway, chatting on and on about what he needed to do and failing to notice that he wasn't absorbing any of it.

He caught sight of himself in a mirror by the nurses station, bruises blossoming across his face from beneath a bright white bandages taped to his nose and forehead. He looked down swiftly, signing his release form and letting her lead him toward the door.

Chirrut was quick to jump up from his hard plastic chair and rush over. Baze was dismayed to see that the flowers had almost completely wilted by this point.

“Make sure he rests,” the nurse was admonishing. “Bring him back if you notice any of the signs we talked about.”

“Got it. Are you okay?” Chirrut asked, concerned as he wrapped his arm across his shoulder and led him toward the door and a waiting taxi.

Baze dropped into the seat with a groan, eyes closed tight as they started driving. It didn't take them long to reach Chirrut's apartment, though Baze had to be dragged from the car. “Chirrut, please. I'm so sorry, but I think I need to just go home.”

“Baze, quit acting like a child. You're staying with me tonight. They said you can't be left alone. This is the best choice.”

“It's not! This whole night has been a disaster!”

Chirrut huffed in frustration. He handed the driver some cash and waited until he sped away. “How so? What makes you think that?”

Baze gestured wildly to himself, swaying slightly on his feet. “Look at me! Look at you! We're both covered in blood, I've got a concussion and stitches, I don't know how I'm going to afford that medical bill when I couldn't even afford to get you proper flowers or pay for dinner. I'm fucking pathetic and you don't deserve this.”

“Then what do I deserve?” Chirrut asked, sounding tired and resigned.

“Someone better. Not someone like me. I made a horrible first impression and I ruined everything. This night was supposed to be perfect. I was going to wear a suit, bring you roses. I was going to pay for a fancy dinner, maybe walk around the park after. Not...” He dropped his hands. “You deserve someone that isn't me.”

Chirrut held his bouquet up, watching the colors shift under the moonlight. “Do you know what these flower signify?”

Baze shook his head. The change in the topic was hard for him to keep up with at the moment.

Chirrut pointed to each flower in turn. “This sunflower? It can stand for adoration and longevity. But it can also mean loyalty. That's not something I've encountered a lot of lately. The chrysanthemums? See how they are both red and yellow? Those two colors usually refer to love and a cherished person. The jasmine is unconditional and eternal love. But the gladiolus tell me what matters the most.”

“Which is?” he asked, voice soft and breathless.

“That you are a person of honor and conviction, that you are stronger than you seem. Did you know any of that when you picked them?”

“No,” Baze admitted, head hanging low. “They were all I could afford. The girl working there told me to pick out a few things and she'd make them look nice for me.”

“Well, I'm glad that was all you could afford. Anyone can get roses. They have a lot of meaning to, but it's pretty boring. These, these were flowers you picked from your heart. And that means a lot. Plus, between the jasmine and the baby's breath, they smell quite nice. What I'm trying to say, is that I don't need someone that's going to make grand gestures of love if they can't follow through. I'd much rather have something small and heartfelt.” Chirrut reached for his hand. “You don't see yourself how others see you, do you?”

Baze sniffed and tried to turn away, only for Chirrut to drop his hand and catch him gently by the chin.

“When you first walked into that restaurant, you looked so worried, like you thought I wouldn't still be waiting. And when you realized I was, you were so relieved. You practically lit up. I've never had that kind of reaction before.” He ran his hand up over his cheek, cupping it with care. “Everything you did, you tried so hard to think about me before yourself. Even when you were lying on the floor, you asked me if I was alright.” Chirrut's smile grew, his eyes sparkling in the light. “No one has ever cared about me that much before. So, maybe it didn't go as planned, but I think it was one of the best dates I've ever had. Though I will admit that I'd rather not have a repeat visit to the hospital.”

Baze looked at him, blinking back tears. “So, does this mean I have another chance?”

“You never lost this one.” Chirrut pulled him forward, and there, under the moonlight, poured as much love and devotion into his kiss as he possibly could. Baze brought his hand up, running it through Chirrut's short hair as he returned the sentiment. He couldn't help but think that, yes, Chirrut's lips were as soft as he had imagined. They stood under the moon, afraid to break the spell for longer than they should of, exchanging kisses as the sky began to brighten behind them.

* * *

Baze sighed and knocked his head gently against Chirrut's. “Say what you want, it could have been better.”

“Well, I'll admit that having my favorite sweater ruined by blood wasn't very nice. But, it did lead to something very important.”

“And what was that?”

“It got me you.”

Baze stiffened. He pulled away to look at Chirrut.

“After you stopped freaking out about it, you relaxed a lot and opened up more. I already thought you were cute. Besides, after everything that happened, it could only get better from there.” Chirrut bumped him, grinning. “It was an amazing ice breaker.”

“Okay, you win. Maybe it wasn't as terrible as I remember. But it did set a horrible precedence for every Valentine's after. I swear we need to just start skipping the day. Stay home and forget the world.”

“Oh, I like that idea,” Chirrut said, kissing at his neck. “I could keep you locked away all day, only for myself.”

Baze hummed, thoughtful. “Maybe what happened that night was actually good. I mean, aside from my nose. Stupid thing never did heal right.”

“Gives you character. Makes you look distinguished.”

Baze shivered as Chirrut found a sensitive spot. “Oh does it?”

“Yup. And waiting a bit to have sex that first time made it even better. Speaking of which...”

Baze rolled his eyes as Chirrut crawled into his lap, towel discarded on the floor. “I'm going to laugh when you trip over that later.”

“So mean. Look at what I put up with.” He pressed forward, kiss possessive as he gripped Baze's shoulders. “But, yeah, that first date was horrible.”

“You just said—”

“Doesn't mean I'd change anything about it. Because everything that happened showed me just how far you were willing to go to try and make things perfect.”

Baze smiled and pulled him in for a deeper kiss. “You deserve perfect.”

“No. I deserve you. And that means that you are perfect.”

Baze rolled them until they were lying across the bed, Chirrut pinned below them. “Then shall I try and make up for another bad Valentine's?”

“That sounds like a perfect plan.”

**Author's Note:**

> I know, I know. I wasn't very nice to Baze in this one. But everything works out. Right? Right?


End file.
